


The Watcher Verse

by pushkin666



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Carson is a sick puppy, Darkfic, Drugs, Humiliation, M/M, Piercing, Rape, Rodney is an evil overlord, john sheppard is pretty on his knees, slavefic, straitjackets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-02-01
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2017-10-06 23:05:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pushkin666/pseuds/pushkin666
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney McKay has taken over Atlantis as it's warlord and enslaved John Sheppard. This is a very darkfic. In fact, it is a no-holds barred, out-and-out slavefic/rapefic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue - Watching

**Antarctica Base - Daytime**

 

John wandered. General O'Neill had left him to his own devices, after giving him security clearance for being on the base and telling him not to touch anything. John didn't understand why the security clearance was necessary, but he wasn't going to argue with the General. All he could see as he looked around were boxes full of odd shaped bits and pieces, people scurrying around with clipboards etc, all looking intensely busy, to the low buzz of computers. Other than the excess of civilians this didn't seem any different from other bases he'd been sent to. The only things unusual about the place were the odd carvings on the walls and John was amusing himself by following them. To John they looked art deco but, hell, what did he know. They seemed to be very strongly defined around the entrance to a room, through which he could hear what he thought, might be a Scottish accent.

He looked quickly around to make sure nobody was going to challenge his right to enter the room and then slipped inside. The room was lined with the blue grey carvings and symbols and in the middle of the room stood a large chair. It looked, to John, to be made of some sort of stone or marble and it had silver inserts in it. As John stepped into the room the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. By the chair stood a man dressed all in blue. His hair was dark and he was unshaven and it was clear from the way he was speaking to the man and woman with him that he was excited about something. From his accent John deduced he was the man he'd heard from the corridor.

John stood and listened.

"The second I shut my eyes, I could see you see. I felt power I've never had before. I had it dancing across the sky…it was magical, it really was. They're lucky, I don't know where it came from I just tried to concentrate and the drone shut itself down." He chuckled. As John listened he realised that the man was talking about the missile that had attacked General O'Neill and himself. He stepped forward.

"So you were the one," he said.

The man turned towards him in surprise. "Me?" He said.

"You were the one who fired that thing at me." John watched as the man blanched and swallowed.

"Look we're doing research. Working with technology that's light-years beyond us and we make mistakes. I'm incredibly, incredibly sorry," he apologised.

"Well, next time just be a little more careful, ok?" John told him.

Carson nodded. "That's what I said."

"What the heck was that thing anyway?" John asked.

"You mean the drone?" he answered. John nodded. "It's the weapon the ancients built to defend this outpost."

John stared at him. He had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. "The who?"

Carson looked concerned. "You do have security clearance to be here?"

"Yeah, yeah, General O'Neill just gave it to me." John smiled at him but it didn't seem to help and the man still looked perturbed. "Then you don't even know about the Stargate?" he asked John.

"The what?"

"The Stargate. It's what the Ancients used to travel between worlds." Carson said.

John looked at him nervously. He wasn't sure whether or not the man was sincere or if he was just insane. If he was, what the hell was he doing playing with missiles or drones or whatever they were called? What were they doing on this base? He took a step back.

"No need to be worried lad. I'm not pulling your leg. Just ask General O'Neill, he'll tell you everything you need to know." He held out his hand to shake. "By the way I'm Dr Carson Beckett."

John looked at it gingerly before shaking it. "Major John Sheppard". He gestured towards the chair. "Okay, so how do you power this?"

"Well I discovered that some people have what we call the Ancient's Gene. We think the gene was used as a sort of genetic key if you will. So that only their kind could operate certain dangerous and powerful technologies."

"So some people have the same gene as these Ancients?" John asked. He wasn't sure he believed a word of it but the guy seemed to be pretty genuine. He prodded the chair cautiously and when it did nothing he walked around it looking at it more closely.

Carson pursued his lips. "Well, the specific gene is very rare, but on the whole they look very much like we do. In fact they were first through the second evolution of this form. The ancients having explored this Galaxy for millions of years before.

John moved to sit in the chair and Carson stepped towards him, arm outstretched. "Major please don't."

"Come on what are the odds of me having the same genes as these guys?" John sat and the chair immediately lit up with blue light. It tilted back and John lay there, too shocked to move.

Carson stared at the chair and it's occupant in disbelief. "Quite slim actually," he said dryly. "Dr Weir!!" his voice rose and he moved towards the door. He looked back at John. "Don't move."

John sat as still as he possibly could as he watched Carson rush out of the room. He'd already done enough he felt. Best to just sit here until somebody came along to switch this thing off.

Carson returned a few moments later. He was followed by General O'Neill, a thin dark haired woman and two other men, one in an orange fleece of all things. As they entered the room they all stood and stared at John. John fidgeted slightly and tried to look anywhere but at them. The woman turned to General O'Neill.

"Who is this?" she asked.

The General disregarded her and looked directly at John. "Major, I said don't touch anything."

John swallowed. The last thing he needed was another black mark against him. "I.I.I just sat down."

The General said nothing, simply threw him a look. The chunky man in the orange fleece stepped towards John. "Major think about where we are in the solar system," he said. John closed his eyes and concentrated. Hearing gasps he opened his eyes and looked up. Above his head appeared a map of stars and planets.

John looked over at them. "Did I do that?" John asked carefully. The woman smiled at him. "Yes you did."

 

Antarctica - Evening

Golden. That's what he'd been. Sitting in the energised chair and watching the map of the solar system above him with his head thrown back, John Sheppard had looked surprised and exulted. Rodney wondered if he'd look like that after an orgasm. He wanted to know how Major John Sheppard would like at that particularly vulnerable moment. He wanted to be able to savour it, for the memory to be locked away, to be taken out later and gloated over. Rodney closed his eyes and continued to stroke his cock, his own orgasm getting steadily closer. He saw him in his mind's eye. Major John Sheppard, tall, lean and golden. Oh, not in colouring of course, but the feel of him, the energy of him, the way he shone. Rodney wanted it, wanted to make it his own. He'd known it in that instance of seeing him in the chair. He wanted him under him, writhing as Rodney fucked him hard. Rodney wanted the Major tied and begging for freedom, both from his bonds and from the control that Rodney had over his sexual release. He wanted him marked clearly as his. Rodney's breath stuttered and his hand sped faster, stroking himself harder into an orgasm, until he came, shuddering, it almost painful in it's intensity as he gasped out the Major's name.

He hadn't seen anybody that he wanted so much in a long while. He'd tried to temper his appetites, certainly after that unfortunate incident in Siberia but he found them coming alive again at the sight of the Air Force Major.

He had of course spoken to Dr Weir after the Major had left the chair and had managed to persuade her to ask the Major to work on the project with them. If they were able to go to Atlantis Rodney wanted the Major there as well, where he could see him, watch him and if possible lock him away, only to be taken out and polished until he was all gleaming and shiny.

It made sense of course for the Major to work with them. He clearly had the strongest gene of anybody tested so far and Elizabeth thankfully had recognised this. Rodney carefully wiped his hands on some tissue and smiled. Not the crooked half smile that he allowed people to see, but a soft, dark, secretive smile; the sort of smile that would make people back away if they were graced with it.

He knew he would have to be careful though. He'd seen the quick calculating look that Carson had thrown his way and knew he'd been caught staring at the Major. Carson knew some of Rodney's appetites; he didn't share most of them but they had enough in common for the pair of them to have an occasional interesting evening watching illegal films that Rodney had downloaded from the web.

Rodney went into the bathroom and cleaned himself off fully. He smiled as he thought of the Major again. At some point the Major would be his, his to do with as he liked, how he liked, when he liked. All it would need would be some planning.


	2. Contemplation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodney contemplates his sleeping drugged pet.

He sat in the quiet of the room, watching the man laid out before him on the bed. His eyes slowly ran covetously up and down the lean naked body, the legs relaxed but arms pulled up by the cuffs attached to the hooks at the head of the bed. The muscles were no longer as defined as they once had been, and the body was leaner. His eyes moved to the wrists that had been rubbed raw by the cuffs. It was clear that his pet had been attempting to escape from his restraints again.

He sighed in annoyance, the sound breaking the heavy silence. It seemed he would have to punish his pet again. How many more beatings would it take before his pet learned his place? He had no desire to leave permanent reminders of the many whippings that John had borne. The only marks he wanted on John's body were the one's that he'd put there; his initials that he'd ordered the doctor to tattoo on John's neck, the bruises left from where he'd pressed too hard with his fingers and thumbs.

His eyes trailed back up to the man's face. John looked exhausted, darkened rings around his eyes. He smiled, he had kept John awake for most of the night but his pet should have slept through the day rather than struggling against both the restraints and his fate. The sooner John accepted his position the happier he was sure he would be.

He made a mental note to fetch a sleeping draught for John from the doctor in the morning.

His attention was drawn again to John as he gave a soft moan and his eyes flickered open. Blurry hazel eyes locked with his before comprehension entered them and John came instantly awake, his body tensing and pressing further back into the bed, away from his owner.

He smiled warmly at his pet. It amazed him how John could still, if only for a few seconds upon awakening, forget where he was and what he was. When he'd first taken John his pet had attempted to fool him by pretending to be asleep, when really he was watching what was happening around him and assessing the situation. Clearly a result of his military training. He'd found it entertaining at first but had soon gotten tired of it. He much preferred him this way, slightly uncomprehending due to the drugs he was fed.

He leant forwards and ran his fingers softly over the marks on John's wrists. He looked up at the quick intake of breath. "I'll have to get the doctor to look at these for me. Perhaps I should see about getting some lined cuffs. What do you think pet?"

John's eyes met his. "You could always let me go" he replied.

He smiled and brushed his fingers over the raw flesh again before gripping the wrists in his hands. "It's nice to see you still retain your sense of humour pet."

He let John's wrists go and stood up. As he removed his clothing John watched him with resignation.

"I have to say I'm not happy John. I came home fully intending to make love to you. I wanted you squirming under me and begging me for release like you did last night." John turned his face away in shame. "But you've completely spoiled my mood". He bent and stroked his fingers over the wrists again. "Why do you do this to yourself? You know I'm the only one allowed to mark you." John stared up at him. He was well aware of this fact. It was one of the ways in which he continued to defy his master, marking himself whenever he could. He knew it would always bring punishment but he didn't care, it was a battle between the two of them, the rules known and adhered to.

"No matter." He moved his hands to John's legs and pushing them apart he settled himself on the bed between them. John tried to move away from him but too many weeks spent like this had weakened him and he was no longer the physical fighter that he had been at the beginning of his ordeal.

"No, please", came the harsh rasping plea, John's voice damaged from the almost constant screaming of the first few weeks of his enslavement.

Ignoring John's plea, he pulled him up and onto his lap, draping his legs over his. He ran his fingers over his erect cock, smearing the precome onto them. He spat on his fingers to add a little extra lubrication before pushing two of them into John's arse. John's body arched as he tried to move away from the fingers. Normally he would use lube but never when it was a punishment. John moaned in pain when he pushed his fingers deeper and deeper into him, rotating them harshly and deliberately ensuring that he missed the prostate.

Whenever he could spare time from his duties he'd hurried back to his quarters and fucked John, both brutally and softly. He liked to take him fast and hard, forcing the pain and pleasure upon John, making John come hard with him. He also liked long and slow afternoons and evenings of playing John's body, until his pet was trembling under him, sweat adorning his body, head thrown back in pleasure, black hair mussed up and lips swollen from kissing.

He'd shown John the delights of fisting. He'd fisted him on a number of occasions, the feel of John's body around his arm and fist a dark viscuous pleasure, the memory of which he took with him into his day. Consequently the Colonel was no longer as tight as he'd been when he'd taken his virginity from him. Even so, he intended that this session hurt his pet and remind him of what he was. It was time that his pet forgot the past and what he'd once been. He was no longer a soldier, no longer a leader of men, he was a pet to be used as and when his master wanted him. If he chose to take John over the table whilst in the middle of a meeting he would and had done so. John had no say in his present or his future. The only thing he had any control over was his past.

He pulled his fingers out of John and spread his ass cheeks. Before John could attempt to move away again he shoved his cock inside him with one movement. John's despairing "no" was music to his soul. He held him tightly, new bruises joining the ones already marking his hips, as he continued to thrust deeply into him, the sounds of slapping flesh mingling with his own harsh breaths and John's soft and continued litany of "no, please no".

His thrusts became more and more erratic as his climax drew nearer. Pushing John of his lap and back onto the bed he loomed over him, beginning to ride him hard, John's face gripped between his meaty paws. "Look at me", he demanded. John shook his head, his eyes tightly closed. He leant forward and licked John's right ear, whispering "why do you do this John? Why do you defy me each time? You know you can't win." They'd danced this way before, he'd introduced John early to the intensity of breath play, withholding John's breath from him as he climaxed, ensuring John passed out in the aftermath of his explosive orgasm. He had no problem with John passing out from lack of oxygen, he would simply hold off until he woke up and then they would start the dance again. He knew John hated that type of play, what it revealed about John. He'd been surprised at just how vanilla John had been when he'd first taken him to his bed.

This time however, he simply wanted John to look at him, to see the gleaming possessiveness and triumph in his eyes. He moved one hand away from John's head and covered his nose and mouth, pushing him further into the bed. John began to struggle, desperately attempting to dislodge his hand without success. John had learnt to give in, but he still hated to look his owner in the eyes at the moment of his climax. He waited for the moment. From past experience he knew exactly when John would open his eyes, and as John did he replaced his hand with his mouth, biting down onto John's fuller bottom lip, marking him as he climaxed, his cum filling his pet.

John slumped back down on the bed, pained despairing hazel eyes meeting his as he master delicately licked John's blood stained lips before running his thumb over them.

John looked up into the eyes of the man that he'd once called his best friend. The man who'd changed beyond all recognition since he'd taken control of Atlantis.

"Rodney why?" he asked plaintively.

He flinched as his hair was brushed back from his sweaty forehead.

The very first time he'd seen the Major he'd known. "Mine," he thought. He'd held to that, waiting for the right moment, watching over the Major obsessively, hating it when he'd been injured. He'd wanted to own him, to have him under him, pleading for release. He'd wanted to hurt him, to mark him, to reveal to John the darkness of his obsession, to show the world that John belonged to him. Rodney McKay smiled down at his pet, his blue eyes shining.

"Because I can".


	3. Taking Care of One's Pet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodney instructs Carson to take care of his pet.

Morning arrived and John woke to the feeling of fingers lightly pinching his nipples, the feel of a warm tongue ghosting over his neck. He groaned softly as first one nipple and then the other was encased in a warm moist mouth. The fingers stroked down his chest, soft touches skimming over his flat stomach, before venturing further south.

He gasped and bucked upwards as his erection was grasped in a firm hand. He kept his eyes closed; just wanting to enjoy what was being done to him, without acknowledging who was doing it. The mouth continued to suck and bite gently at his nipples, teasing him and sending shots of delight through him. His body was worked skilfully, and he never lasted long first thing in the morning.

John tossed his head back, gasping at the feeling of the hand purposefully sliding over his cock, stroking his orgasm out of him.

He was trembling. He began to feel his balls tightening. A thumb was brushed over the head of his cock, smearing the liquid dripping from it. He groaned as he began to feel himself coming, the intense feeling of pleasure causing him to sag back on the bed as he spilled himself over Rodney's hand.

"Beautiful." Rodney's soft voice brought him back. "Don't you think so Carson?"

Shocked at Rodney's words, John's eyes flew open and he jerked upright. Rodney sat next to him, on the left hand side of the bed. He smiled at John, the back of his fingers brushing along John's sensitive cock.

"Don't be rude John. Say good morning to Carson." He glanced away from John. "He's beautiful isn't he Carson?"

Rodney continued to stroke John's cock. John twitched and tried to pull away, the sudden movement pulling a gasp of pain from him.

"Aye. That he is." The brogue in Carson's voice deepened, almost to a growl. John stole a quick look at him. Carson was sat in an armchair on the right, facing the bed. His legs spread wide, his arousal through his trousers clearly evident. He took a sip of coffee and smiled at John.

John looked back at Rodney. "Why's he here?"

Rodney smiled and trailed his fingers down John's pale face. "He's here to check you over. I want to make sure I didn't damage you too much last night." He stood, collected his coffee and strolled over to Carson.

"He's all your, Doctor." John swallowed as Carson looked over at him again, his eyes bright and gleaming. He took a last mouthful of coffee before placing the mug down. John watched as Carson's pink tongue came out, slowly running over his lips, coating them with glistening saliva. All the time watching John, watching him with a look that made John's blood run cold.

"Rodney - don't. Please, not him."

Rodney smiled as John shrunk back from Carson. "He's the head doctor here John. You deserve only the best after all." His voice hardened. "Now lie back and let him examine you. If you don't lie down, I'll have you taken down to sickbay. You'll be put in stirrups so you can be examined by whoever pleases. You know Carson is always looking for teaching subjects."

At Rodney's words, John subsided back on the bed, turning his head away from them. Closing his eyes, blocking out Carson's white-clad form. Tried to block out the sound of Carson pulling latex gloves onto his hands, the sound of the man's quickened breathing, the slick sound of lubricant being taken from the jar.

"Spread your legs laddie."

John jumped as Carson's voice echoed through the room. Obeying the instruction, he spread his legs and tried to relax, difficult when he knew what was coming next. He hated the doctor, hated him even more than he hated Rodney. Hated the voyeuristic pleasure the man took in him. It had been Carson who had tattooed him at Rodney's command. Carson who had shown Rodney how to pierce him safely. Carson who kept him drugged at Rodney's orders. The man who enjoyed tending to his injuries, hands sliding over John, drinking him in.

He stiffened as Carson's finger slid easily inside him, brushing against the torn entrance. John shivered as the finger explored inside him, seeking to find whether any damage had been done. He gritted his teeth and tried to keep silent. Carson's examinations always took longer than was necessary but it was another of Rodney's ways to show John just how helpless he was. Carson's breath quickened and John cried out as the finger brushed up against his prostate. Carson rubbed up against it again. John bucked upwards, trying to escape, but Carson thrust the finger deeper, forcing John to respond again to the intense sensation.

"Enough." Rodney's voice breaking through. Carson instantly stilled. John tried to bring his own breathing back under control. He gave a sigh of relief as Carson carefully slid his finger out of him. John closed his legs, trying to hide himself from view.

"How much damage is there?" Rodney's voice was tight.

"There's some tearing around the entrance. It's not too bad, it doesn't need stitching."

"Any damage inside?" he asked Carson.

"No, none that I can feel. But the tearing will keep him out of action for a few days. I've got some ointment you'll need to use on him."

Rodney's tone lightened. "Well, then he'll be using his mouth quite a bit over the next few day," he smirked. "Can you look at his wrists, too? He's been rubbing them raw against the restraints again."

John kept his eyes closed. He tried to block out the sounds of the men's voices as his wrists were slathered with ointment and bandaged up. He jumped as a needle slid into his arm. Before the sedative began to take effect, John heard Rodney mention the straitjacket, and felt his heart miss a beat. Then he slid away into the darkness.


	4. Jewels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodney likes to decorate his pet

Rodney passed the chains through his fingers. They would look good on John.

His pet was beautiful but Rodney liked to decorate him with chains and jewels; enjoying the contrast against John's bare skin, the soft sound as he moved, the way the jewels caught the eye of the beholder.

They were his gift to his pet although John didn't always seem particularly grateful. His mouth tightened. No matter. John would do as he was told - would walk behind Rodney tonight through the halls of Atlantis, naked but for the jewellery. No longer an Air Force Officer; simply a pet.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's gossip in the canteen about Rodney and his pet. Kavanagh knows more than most what Rodney will do to anybody that goes near John.

The buzz of the canteen quietened and Kavanagh looked up from his book. Sure enough McKay followed by his … pet! Kavanagh sneered. Considering the way Sheppard tried to make out he was something special he'd been quick enough to fall to his knees for their new Master!.

Gossip was that Beckett was enjoying Sheppard as well but he wondered how true that was.

He more than anybody knew just how possessive McKay was of his pet. He turned his eyes bitterly to what remained of his left arm after McKay cut off his hand, and all he'd done was touch …


	6. Straitjacket - 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodney has received a straitjacket from Earth. He can't wait to see what John looks like in it.

Rodney pulled the straitjacket out of its wrapping and held it up. He swallowed as he softly stroked his fingers over the thick black material and the leather buckles.

"Perfect." he whispered. He glanced over to the bed where his pet lay in a drugged sleep.

The thought of how John would look in the straitjacket; his arms restrained, eyes pleading to be released made him hard again, although he'd already used John well tonight. Rodney carefully wrapped it up again and placed it back inside its box. He then locked it away in his special closet. He didn't want John to know he had it, not until the time came for John to wear it. Turning toward the bed he unbuttoned his trousers and kicked them off.

John murmured softly but he didn't wake as Rodney rolled him onto his stomach. Rodney groaned softly at the sight of John's ass, the butt plug keeping him stretched and open for Rodney's use. He spread John's ass cheeks and pulled the plug out, placing it to one side. He didn't bother to slick up his cock, after all John would be loose and lubricated from the plug and Rodney's earlier use of him. Holding the ass cheeks open he pushed inside the tight passage.

He didn't last long, pumping in and out of his insensate pet, enjoying the feel of John encasing him, imagining once again how John would look in the straitjacket.

Rodney groaned as he came for the fourth time that night. He rested there for a moment and then slowly pulled out, wiping himself clean. He picked the plug up and slid it back inside John. He smiled - he liked the idea that he was sealing his come inside his pet, marking him both inside and out.


	7. Straitjacket - 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has disobeyed Rodney's instructions and now he's being punished. He kneels in Rodney's lab, ignoring those around him and trying to deal with the fact that he's bound in a straitjacket. He needs his Master - Rodney is the ony thing that can calm him.

"Major Sheppard."

The soft voice drew his attention away from his thoughts. This was never a bad thing. His thoughts these days were dark; full of pain, loss and regret. When he wasn't worrying about what was happening to the captives he was thinking about what Rodney would do to him that day.

John looked up at Zelenka. Radek was one of the few people he was allowed to interact with - well, to a degree. John could acknowledge Radek and answer his questions, but he was not to initiate any contact between the two of them unless Rodney had given him permission to do so.

"Dr. Zelenka?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

Titles were important, that was something Rodney had beaten into him. Even though John was the pet of the Overlord of Atlantis, he was still just a pet. Rodney's instructions were that if he spoke to somebody he was to use their title. Unless it was Rodney of course. Then he took the lead from his Master. It could be Dr. McKay, Master, Sir, or more commonly, Rodney. It was always Master in public though, unless he'd been given permission otherwise. But he never dared take anything for granted, not anymore. To take things for granted often resulted in a punishment, and Rodney was very inventive when it came to those. Even in this the man was a genius. John wondered sometimes whether Rodney simply sat at his desk during the day, thinking up new and more elaborate punishments for John. There was probably a password protected document somewhere on his computer listing out all the things he wanted to try on John.

Take yesterday's punishment. The previous evening Carson and Radek had made an unexpected visit to their quarters. Wednesday was when they normally visited. The four of them would have a meal together, as though they were friends. But afterward, well then John would become the after meal entertainment for Rodney and Carson.

Over the months John had become accustomed to the routine so last night had come as a surprise. It was a Thursday and up until now Carson had not visited two nights in a row. John had already been feeling shaky and under the weather from the previous evening's _activities_, and just wanted to sleep. That unfortunately meant that when Rodney had ordered him to strip and crawl into his lap so his Master could play with him, he'd balked. He'd even been foolish enough to verbally refuse Rodney. Carson's attention made his skin crawl and he hadn't been able to stop himself from disobeying the command.

That of course had been a mistake – it had resulted in John being given a strapping before being ordered to suck his Master off. John had hoped that there would be no further punishment, but he'd been wrong. Rodney had proceeded to tie him down to their bed and called Carson over. He'd then spent some considerable time discussing John's body with the Doctor. Knowing how much John hated it, he'd allowed Carson to slowly run his hands over John's body – to inspect him. John was used to that happening, but normally he would have a week between, to get over it. Seven days in which he could steel himself for what he knew was coming. He hated and feared Carson and tried everything he could to not give him the pleasure of seeing it. But two nights in a row was more than John had been able to handle.

And Carson knew how he felt. That was part of the pleasure for Carson – John's fear and disgust and inability to do anything about what was happening to him. Rodney had watched as Carson's hands had moved carefully over John's body, stroking his cock and balls. John hadn't been able to stop himself from moaning as Carson had tugged sharply on his pierced nipples, the pain running through his body. The way his mind was wired so differently now - the pain and pleasure mixed together made him instinctively arch up from the bed and into Carson's hands. Rodney had continued to watch as Carson made John come and the gaze he'd turned on John had been both possessive and angry.

John hadn't been able to work out if Rodney was mad at Carson or John. There were so many things that confused him these days. When his mind wasn't clouded with the pain his body was experiencing, it was hazy because of the drugs that Carson gave him. The drugs that Rodney ordered Carson to give him. John found it too difficult to think clearly some days. More often than not, he simply did as he was told; taking Rodney's commands as his lead. Things were much easier that way.

He hated how his body reacted to things now, hated that Rodney could make him come so often and so easily. But the thought that Carson could elicit a response from him made him feel sick inside. Maybe, John wondered, he really was a slut like Rodney called him. The scariest thing about it was the possibility that Rodney might loan him out to Beckett. He hoped that Rodney's possessiveness wouldn't let it happen, but John knew he couldn't rely on anything these days, not Rodney or Carson, and certainly not himself.

"John?" Radek's voice was softer now, almost a whisper. It was clear he didn't want to be heard calling John by his given name.

John looked up. Radek seemed tired and his eyes, once open and alive, were now closed-off and dull. John wasn't surprised. Radek's chains were more subtle than his own. Carson hadn't placed a collar on his pet and he seemed to treat Radek with respect, most of the time, but he had placed a ring on Radek's wedding finger without Radek's consent. Although Radek was allowed to work in the labs and interact with people the thick gold band showed that he was owned.

Radek held out the bottle of water. John licked his lips and raised his head slightly, opening his mouth. He swallowed slowly. Radek was very careful not to touch John, simply holding the bottle steady for him and allowing John to take what he needed. John pulled back and smiled faintly at him.

"Thank you," he murmured.

"You are welcome, Major. Rodney has asked me to keep watch over you whilst he is in his meeting."

"I'm sure." John's tone was wry. "And if I move out of position or speak to anybody other than yourself, you are to tell him."

Radek nodded. "Yes of course, but you will not disobey him will you, Major?" His eyes looked John over. "Your outfit today is after all a result of your disobedience last night, is it not?" He sighed and placed the bottle on the desk.

"I have work to do," he told John. "Call me if you need something." Radek turned and went back to his desk.

John took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He had been trying to forget how he was dressed but it wasn't easy. The stares and smirks from some of Rodney's staff and now Radek's comments all made sure of that. And yes, Radek was right. His present state was a direct result of his actions the previous evening.

Every time he thought the man had gone as far as possible, Rodney surprised him John knew that Rodney had some of the items made especially for John by the Athosians, but each time they received a shipment from Earth something new was brought into play. There were so many items and pieces of clothing now that Rodney had a separate closet to store them all. It was, of course, kept locked at all times. John had no idea what it held in its entirety, and to be honest he wasn't sure he wanted to know. If he did, he'd be constantly thinking about when it might be used.

Today's 'outfit' was something he hadn't even known Rodney had. . John wondered how long ago Rodney had obtained it. From the amount of things in the cupboard he was sure that Rodney had started to hoard them long before his coup. Which led John to question when Rodney had first started planning it, when he'd first noticed John and decided that he wanted him as a pet? Had Carson been in on the plan since its inception or did he come on board later, adding his own special touch to Rodney's plans. Plans that had left Rodney in charge of Atlantis with Carson as his second in command.

John shook his head. What was the point of even thinking about it? That way lay only madness. It brought into question everything he and Elizabeth had done, every order or decision they'd made since coming here.

And now... He couldn't even see himself properly, the thick leather posture collar forcing his head up, but he knew what he looked like. He'd been shown.

Today, following Rodney's morning blowjob, John had been washed and then carefully, almost reverently, dried with a large soft towel. Rodney talked to him the whole time, telling John what a beautiful pet he was, how lucky Rodney was to have him, how he was going to show everybody on Atlantis just why John was his.

Next Rodney rubbed lotion into John's body, explaining as per usual that it was to keep John's skin soft. Then he'd ordered John to stand straight and still and to keep his eyes closed.

John obeyed, listening as the closet door was opened, wondering what Rodney would bring out this time. He'd kept his eyes closed but at Rodney's command he'd raised his chin, baring his neck. He had swallowed as the collar was placed carefully around his neck and fastened. Rodney had pulled him close for a moment, the feel of his clothing against John's naked body making him shiver. Then Rodney had moved away, going back to the closet. John had listened to the sounds of rustling, Rodney's muttering, and then his soft voice as he'd told John to hold his arms out. John had done as he was told, trying to find that place in his mind that allowed him to deal with his life as it now was; the place that was his alone.

It had only been when his arms were crossed over in front of him and buckled down that he'd disobeyed and opened his eyes. Then, and only then had he realised just what it was that Rodney was dressing him in. That disobedience of course had earned him four straps across the back of his legs, the welts showing up against the paleness of his skin. John had tried to pull his arms free, panicking at the constriction and then Rodney had been behind him again wrapping his arms around John's shivering body, stopping him from moving. His Master's voice had been soft and soothing as he spoke to John, calming him like someone would calm a spooked horse.

Rodney had held John close until he'd quietened down, before moving away again, coming back a few moments later with lubricant and a cock ring. It hadn't taken him long to get John hard and erect, his cock glistening with the slick that helped Rodney slip the thick cock ring onto him. The jewels on it matched the studs that Rodney placed in his ears.

"Beautiful," Rodney had told him before ordering him to position himself against the wall, to prepare for further marking. John had cried out as the wooden paddle was used on his backside, Rodney hitting him until his ass was burning. John had known Rodney was going to display him for all to see, but he'd also known that if he protested or fought against this, then his punishment would be much worse. Rodney needed to believe that he had total control over John, that John was subdued. If Rodney didn't believe that then the prisoners would suffer; Teyla, Kate and the rest of them, and John wasn't prepared to be responsible for that.

"My beautiful, beautiful pet," Rodney had murmured before pulling John over to the full length wall mirror and showing him how he looked. ., He'd then brought John to the labs where he could be displayed whilst he waited for Rodney. During the trip from their quarters John had kept his eyes downcast, not wanting to see the looks from the people they passed; mostly lust and scorn , but in some cases sympathy. John could deal with the former, but the latter made him feel sick and ashamed, a disgrace to the uniform he no longer wore.

The straitjacket was a symbol of what his life had become. In some ways being Rodney's pet freed him but it wasn't a life he would ever have chosen for himself.

John closed his eyes and tried to still his breathing. This was a test as much as a punishment. Rodney knew he hated to be bound in any way and because of that it was one of the practices he was happy to use with John.

John was nearly always bound in one way or another – chains, ropes, leather strips – but this was the first time Rodney had made him wear a straitjacket and John didn't like it.

He took another deep breath, exhaling slowly, trying to calm himself. By the clock on the wall he knew he'd knelt like this for nearly three hours. On arrival Rodney had ordered him to his knees, chained him to the ring in the floor and left him there, kneeling at the side of his desk.

John shifted slightly. At least he had a cushion to kneel on, but the position was beginning to really hurt. Normally his hands would be bound behind his back helping him to keep balance but it was harder like this with his arms wrapped around his front and fastened. He sank back down onto his knees, breaking position for a moment, but he had permission from his Master to do that. Rodney didn't want him to injure himself.

John took another breath and tried to shift his arms slightly. Nothing. He swallowed, feeling the sweat beginning to bead on his brow, the desire to be out of this straitjacket expanding until all he could think about was removing it. Oh god no. The last thing he needed was a panic attack. John shook his head trying to clear it before biting down hard on his lip, hoping pain would work. He gasped as his teeth broke through flesh, tasted the coppery tang of blood. It didn't help though, the pain not enough to stop him from panicking.

He opened his eyes looking around for Radek and felt a wave of relief as he saw him.

"Dr. Zelenka." His voice rose and cracked as he called out. His throat was dry and he hated the stares from the other scientists. Radek glanced over at him before standing and walking over to crouch down next to him.

"Major?"

John licked his lips and tugged at the restraints of the jacket again.

"Please," he said. "Please, I need Rodney." He looked up into Radek's concerned eyes. "Please... I can't," his voice choked.

Radek nodded. " Certainly Major, I will call him for you." He took the bottle of water from Rodney's desk and held it to John's lips.

"Take a mouthful. Slowly."

John drank, the water easing his parched throat.

"Another," Radek told him.

John obeyed and then closed his eyes, trying to settle himself until Rodney arrived. He needed his Master. The only things that could calm him down when he got like this were Beckett's drugs or Rodney's presence.

Even though Rodney was the cause of John's suffering and John still could not, would not, accept this life for himself, he recognised his dependency. He could feel himself beginning to shake, . He only hoped it would be soon. He didn't want to have a full blown panic attack. His Master was in a meeting though and he was also angry with John. He might ignore Radek, might decide to leave John where he was, to teach him a lesson. John let out a frightened whine.

He squeezed his eyes tighter until he could see spots. He tried counting them, anything to keep his mind occupied. When that didn't work, he dug his teeth into his bottom lip once more. He tried to cast his mind back to flying; how it felt to be up in the air, the freedom and the way he was in total control. Planes were amazing but puddle jumpers were something else. John missed the feel of them. He hadn't piloted anything since Rodney's take-over. Oh, he'd been a passenger in a puddle jumper but that was all. John tried to imagine himself flying but it wasn't working and he could feel his body beginning to rock, it becoming more agitated as time passed. He needed Rodney,

John could hear a continuous whining and realised the sound was coming from him. What must he look like to the scientists and guards in this room? John trembled with shame. He could feel it building inside him; the pressure and the panic and he knew he was going to lose it, and soon. Knew he would be unable to stop himself from screaming and having a full grown panic attack – something only Rodney, Carson and Radek had witnessed thus far.

John opened his eyes hoping for something to distract him. Anything would do. He almost wished he could see the files on Rodney's desk, the numbers would help him take his mind off this, and math was always something he could get lost in.

But he wasn't allowed to get up, wasn't allowed to touch anything on Rodney's desk. He began to try and control his breathing. It was a technique he'd been trained in long ago – it was interesting how often he had to use it these days. But he still needed something else. His eyes wandered around the room, searching for anything he could concentrate on. There! A large bug was slowly making its way up the leg of Rodney's desk, its body glistening in the light. John stared, tracking its movements, his breathing becoming slower and more settled with each breath. He could do this... would do this. He couldn't allow himself to break down like this in front of everybody.

In, out, in - each breath was slow and measured as John concentrated on the bug. He was so intent on watching it, that he didn't realise straightaway that there was somebody standing next to him, saying his name.

It was only when he was slapped, hard, across the face that John looked up. Rodney! At last. John swallowed, his throat dry. Now that he was no longer concentrating on the bug, the panic began to build again. He swallowed again, staring up at Rodney. Rodney didn't look too unhappy, if anything his gaze showing clear interest as he studied John, noting the posture, the way John was holding himself.

John knew that look well. It was the one Rodney always got when John was bound either physically or mentally, while Rodney contemplated his next move and how John would react. His Master had been known to just sit and stare at him for long periods of time whilst John twisted against his bonds trying to escape Rodney's gaze. But not this time. This time he needed Rodney's full attention.

He ran his tongue over his dry lips, noting with detachment that the lab had gone quiet, everybody no doubt watching to see what Rodney might do. They were probably wondering whether John was going to be punished again. There were some who would enjoy watching that. John had seen their faces before, twisted with lust and satisfaction that he'd been brought down to this level.

"Master ." His voice cracked and Rodney picked up the bottle of water and crouched down next to him, copying Radek's movements from earlier.

"Drink."

John took a couple of mouthfuls before pulling away.

"No," Rodney said. "Drink it all."

John obeyed, swirling the water in his mouth before swallowing it. He was grateful for Rodney's presence, hoping it meant his Master wasn't too angry with him.

John could feel himself beginning to relax. He knew that he was so conditioned now that even though Rodney scared him to death he felt safe when his Master was there.

"So, John,."Rodney's voice was quiet, his words clearly only meant for John's ears. "Tell me why you sent Radek to fetch me."

"Master." He raised his eyes to Rodney's own. "I... the..."He choked on the words, fear welling up inside him. Rodney wasn't known for his patience, would require an explanation.

"It was becoming too much. I couldn't... I thought I was going to have a panic attack. I tried, Master. I really tried to keep calm but I..." His voice trailed away as Rodney continued to stare at him.

Rodney's hand stroked over John's hair and down his cheek before gently cupping his jaw.   
"It's fine John. You did right by asking Radek to fetch me." He took a key out of his pocket and John watched as he was unchained from the floor ring. "Stand up," Rodney told him.

John slowly pushed himself up. It was difficult without the use of his hands but he'd been taught how to do it. He stood, groaning softly in pain. He staggered as his legs unbent properly for the first time in over three hours. Before he could fall though Rodney caught him and John sagged into his arms, content for a moment to let the other man support him, to hold him steady.

"Good boy." The words were murmured against his skin. "I'm very pleased with you, John. I didn't expect you to last as long as this. Thought you'd be calling for me before now. I never thought you'd be able to wear the straitjacket for longer than three hours without breaking down." He laughed and John realised that yet again Rodney had been testing him, to see how far he would go. John stiffened but he wasn't stupid enough, or steady enough, to pull away.

He was gently pushed away and then Rodney was gripping his jaw forcing him to look up. Rodney was smiling and John shivered – he never knew anymore just what Rodney's smile would lead to. Once upon a time his life had been much simpler, and Rodney's smile the smile of a friend. Or so he'd thought.

Rodney's smile grew broader and he ran his thumb over John's bitten lip. "I'm not happy about this. You know my rules about marking yourself," he told him. "But... you did help me win a bet against Carson. He thought you'd only last about an hour before panicking. I told him you were stronger than that, that you'd make me proud and you have. So let's get you back to our quarters and out of this. You can take a shower and have a sleep. And then I have a treat in store for you."

He put his arm around John and began to guide him out of the lab, John's legs aching as he tried to keep up.

Rodney looked over at Radek. "I'll be back shortly. You can tell me then how the experiments went."

"Now..." He turned his attention back to John as he led John over to the lift, his guards following behind them. "Once you've cleaned up and had a sleep we're going to go flying."

_ Oh god._John turned toward Rodney, his eyes beginning to fill with tears as he smiled at his Master.

Rodney pulled him close." I thought you'd like that. I know how much flying means to you, my pet," he whispered. "You've been so good today, so obedient. Do you even know how beautiful you look in that straitjacket, kneeling by my desk? I could see you the whole time, was watching you; your pain and fear, but also how determined you were to deal with it. To do as you were ordered. Oh yes, pet. I am very pleased with you." His voice was darker now, becoming heavy with desire. "Every man in that meeting could see you, watch you on the monitor I'd set up and every single one of them wanted you. That makes me very happy John"

John trembled, not realising he had been on display for more than those in the lab. That they'd been watching him, people he'd once commanded. The thought made him sick. Every time he thought he'd gotten used to this, that Rodney couldn't hurt him anymore he was proven wrong.

"So," Rodney continued, ignoring the listening guards. "After we've been for our flight you can show me just how grateful you are, can't you?"

He continued to smile as he pushed John inside the lift. "What a good little pet you are."


	8. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Sheppard is a broken man.

Rodney looked down at his pet. John’s head was bent, looking down at the floor, almost as though he daren’t look up at his Master. Rodney smiled and slowly ran his fingers through John’s hair, enjoying the tremor it caused. He wanted John broken, he’d wanted that since he’d first set eyes on the Major, wanting nothing more than to take him apart and break him down.

John pressed against his legs, desperately seeking touch, even if it was from Rodney. He was happy, John was becoming everything he wanted, everything he desired and sought. Nothing more than a broken man seeking shelter and sanctuary. Rodney was pleased and when he was pleased Atlantis had a good day.


End file.
